The Time Left to Leave
by ahsokanerd
Summary: When the trial fails to go in her favor, Ahsoka is forced to face the reality that in twenty-four hours, she will be executed. [One-shot.]


_Note to previous readers: fixed display issues._

* * *

The Time Left to Leave

"_The timing of death, like the ending of a story, gives a changed meaning to what preceded it."_

_- Mary Catherine Bateson_

* * *

Sentient species have a habit of fearing their mortality. Have you ever wondered about death? You're not the first, nor are you the last. Death has a way with being on the mind of every man and woman, sometime during their short lives. It's been said that meditating on a certainty is a waste of the life we have left. Perhaps that's true.

Still, Ahsoka found herself thinking about the question of what death was like even more than usual as she waited for the verdict of her trial to be announced. It wasn't a new question for the teenager; a sad fact, but reality was always full of truthfulness. As a soldier – contrary to what she was taught, this is what she truly was – she thought about death rather often. After all, she lived and breathed the scent of corpses. Every time she was deployed for a mission, she knew that it could be her last. But the battle at hand always seemed to distract her.

Now she was thinking about it a bit more intensely, as the reality of the situation began to sink into her young mind. The trial could not be won. Padmé had done her best, but she would not succeed. The prosecution's words carried more weight, as all the available evidence was on their side. Ahsoka looked up at a clock from her place on the hovering platform. It was almost six o'clock in the evening. Had she been at the Jedi Temple, she would be having supper just now, laughing with her friends at some joke or whispering the latest gossip about the war as they waited in line for their food. Instead, she was here. Waiting for the words that were all too important for her.

Looking up at the balconies, Ahsoka could have choked. All these people were probably leaning against her, but that wasn't what bothered her now. It was Anakin. He was talking with Master Kenobi, shaking his head sadly as he whispered something into the Jedi Master's ear. So he had come back, she realized, and he hadn't found anything. And now she was certain of the direction the trial would take, though she hoped desperately that it was not so.

A member of the jury cleared his throat, and Ahsoka's gaze shifted over to the large man as he stood from his seat. "The members of the court have reached a decision," he said, his voice echoing in the judicial chambers. He tapped a few buttons on a small device he held in his hands, and then Palpatine received a similar device.

With a nod to the man who had handed it to him, the Supreme Chancellor stood. Ahsoka tensed. "Ahsoka Tano," he began gravely, "by an overwhelming count of seven to two, the jury has found you guilty of all the crimes you have been accused of, including all twenty-six counts of homicide." Her world began to spin, but she forced herself to remain standing. She would not fall and faint as she heard her fate. She would be brave, she told herself as he continued. "In accordance with the law and the request of the prosecution, you have been sentenced to death." She wanted to scream and sob at the same time, but she bit her lip to stop herself. However, nothing she told herself could prevent a few tears of anguish from rolling down her cheek. This couldn't be happening, but it was. It really was. _I'm going to die._

Palpatine turned to the court and concluded the trial, saying, "Friends, today is a dark day for the Republic, but we must do what it right. It has become apparent to us that the Separatist threat can even infiltrate the Jedi Order, and something must be done to dissuade any Jedi from betraying our great government again. I'll admit, when I look upon this girl, I want to give her mercy. But my friends, she is no simple girl if she can do such things as this. She is a monster who must be stopped." He sat down again and folded his hands, and concluded firmly, "I assure you, her death will be a message that will last for decades to come. The case has been closed. Court, you are dismissed."

Precisely at six o'clock in the evening, the trial for her life was over, and she had lost. Ahsoka looked up at the clock again. It meant something else now. _Twenty-four hours._ She had only a day left to live, and she was only sixteen years of age. Putting a hand over her mouth, she stifled a gasping scream as the platform she stood on returned to the walkway, where four clones waited to take her away to her temporary holding cell.

Ahsoka looked at her lawyer as the guards roughly gripped her arms and began to haul her away. Padmé's face was full of concern and worry, and for a moment they looked into each other's eyes. Ahsoka thought she could see her friend's eyes fill with tears, before the guards turned her away. And as the door to the courtroom closed behind her, she began to cry.

* * *

Sleep was impossible. Death was a certainty. Nothing could save her. Nobody would even try. It was too late now. Ahsoka sat on the cold metal floor in a corner of her cell, her arms tightly wrapped around her legs as she buried her tear-stained face in her knees. She was no longer shedding any tears, but she was trembling and shaking; her head was throbbing and her heart was pounding, marking the seconds as they went by.

Ahsoka heard a buzzing sound outside of her cell. _Probably a clone bringing me my last meal,_ she thought. She hugged herself tighter and moved further into the corner. She wasn't hungry, and she guessed that there wasn't really a point. The food would just go to waste, as she'd be dead in… She briefly looked up at the clock. _Twelve hours._ She'd be dead in twelve hours. When she heard the door to her cell slide open, she looked away from the clock and closed her eyes. She didn't want to see how this person would react to her weakness.

Still, she wanted to be safe and check the person's emotions, as she didn't know if this person would harm her or not. Ahsoka wanted to safeguard her final hours. She didn't like using the Force, because it was the very thing that made her special that had condemned her. Yet she used it anyway. Immediately, she coiled back and moved further away when she realized whom all the conflicting emotions belonged to. It was Anakin.

Ahsoka didn't open her eyes when she heard her former master set something down on the floor of the cell. So someone had come to bring her the last meal she would ever eat, though it wasn't the man she had expected. "Ahsoka, I'm…" She heard him hesitate, as if he was at a loss for words. She couldn't blame him. She had none for him, but at least he was trying, unlike her. She was trying _not_ to speak, for fear of what she would do or say. "I'm so sorry," he finally said. "I tried, I really tried, but… there was nothing I could do." He paused. "I'm sorry," he said again.

The pain Anakin was feeling was rolling off him in waves; the conflict in his soul filled the Force around him with fear and sadness. "I… I still don't think you're guilty, for what it's worth," he said awkwardly. _Very little, I think,_ Ahsoka thought. "Talk to me, Ahsoka," he pleaded. "Snips, is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all? Anyone you'd like to see? I'm here for you. I'll stand by you. I promise." She heard him groan. "I've given my word that I won't break you out. That's why I wasn't here earlier, in fact. I suppose it wouldn't have worked, had I tried. But I've given my word. I won't break you out. And it won't help if I try." He laughed, though it was full of bitterness and frustration. "Actually, there's people guarding this cell outside because they don't trust me. Can't say I blame them."

That was true. Ahsoka knew that Anakin would do anything to save her, as she would for him. If he was talking like this, she knew that there was no chance. She was glad she had never hoped for a miraculous escape.

Anakin took a deep breath, and Ahsoka thought she heard him choke back a sob. "Well, I'm not here just to bring you food, as you probably guessed." With a snort, he added, "I suppose you don't care much about food right now, right?" He waited for her to respond. When she didn't, he sighed again, and continued. "Yeah, can't say I blame you. I'm going to be honest with you now. I'd like to say I've always been, but that'd be a lie. I've told lots of lies. Some of them I've told to you. Ahsoka, I'm married. Padmé and I have been married since the start of the war. Believe me when I tell you, I've always had this strange desire to leave the Jedi Order. Just to leave and go forge my own path with my wife; maybe have a family and raise kids on Naboo, or some other planet where this terrible war wouldn't touch us.

"I've imagined taking you too, but I thought that you would want to stay here, with the Jedi Order. It was always more your family than mine. I knew my real mother, and I guess that made me different from everyone else in the eyes of the Jedi Council. And I thought that I was treated unfairly for it." Anakin let out a sob, but stopped himself from crying any further before he spoke again. "Turns out, I was wrong. So very wrong. I was held up, Ahsoka, and the only person who was harmed by the Jedi, was you. If I hadn't been your master; if Obi-Wan and the rest of them on the Council hadn't wanted to teach my a lesson; if I'd been a better master, maybe you wouldn't be here right now. And I'm so sorry."

Anakin sighed, and Ahsoka heard him get up and move closer to her. She felt a soft blanket being draped over shoulders, strangely bringing some comfort to her. She could feel Anakin's warm breath when he sat next to her. Still, she didn't move or open her eyes. "I had always expected great things from you, Ahsoka. I should have praised you more, but I didn't. You were the perfect padawan for me. Nobody could have done a better job than you, and nobody could've been the friend you have been to me.

"I never imagined saying goodbye to you, you see. I always thought that you'd be a Jedi Master, maybe even Grand Master, and outlive me." Anakin laughed; in spite of himself, she knew. "Basically, I thought you'd be the one saying goodbye to me, on my death bed." His voice grew even more somber and he gently put his hand on her shoulder. "But I guess that just wasn't meant to be. And this is my goodbye." He rose to his feet. "May the Force be with you, my padawan. But know this: in my heart, you'll always be the knight you dreamed of being. That's what you deserved. Not… not _this_."

Silence followed, and then Ahsoka heard him walk up the steps to the door of the cell. before the door could open, she said hoarsely, "Master?"

"Yes?" Anakin said hopefully.

Ahsoka finally opened her eyes and looked up at Anakin's disheveled form. "Whatever happens, and no matter what you're told, remember me as your padawan." She smiled, and a tear fell down her cheek. "That's all I want."

"I know," Anakin said. He smiled back sadly. "But you'll always be more than that to me, for you showed me how to be a better person. Without you, it'd be a lesson I'd never have learned." He stepped through the open door and looked back before a clone closed it. "Teachers are best when they let themselves be taught."

When he was gone, Ahsoka was just as scared as she had been before. She was still trembling. But now she had been comforted by the person she looked up to the most.

* * *

Lips quivering, Ahsoka allowed herself to be marched under heavy guard to the prep room, which was just outside the execution chamber, six hours before her scheduled execution. Her eyes had circles underneath them from lack of sleep. Shaak Ti, who was leading the group, wasn't taking any chances. There had to be at least a hundred clones surrounding her and filling the halls. Ahsoka walked at the center of the guard, her wrists once again bound with binders designed to prohibit use of the Force. Throughout the walk, the reserved Jedi Master hadn't said a word. As for the clones, all members of the Coruscant Guard, they hadn't spoken except to give her orders. When they'd gone into her cell, they'd insisted that she eat her food, but she refused. It was the one thing they let slide.

When they reached their destination, Shaak Ti waved her hand over the lock. When she had unlocked it, the door opened, revealing a small room with two regular chairs and a table. _Good, _Ahsoka thought, _at least they aren't strapping me to an electric chair. Maybe Shaak Ti wants to talk._ She followed Master Ti into the room, and a dozen clones lined the walls inside while the rest remained guarding the halls on the outside. "Take a seat, Tano," Shaak Ti instructed.

Ahsoka noticed that she purposely did not use her old title of padawan, but she obeyed. Shaak Ti sat in the seat on the opposite end of the table. "I'm here to answer any questions you may have before we proceed with your execution," she said. "I'm also going to interview you, for research purposes. There's no stopping the this now, so you might as well be honest with me."

It was clear that Shaak Ti wanted Ahsoka to confess, but the younger Togruta said nothing. "Will you admit that you orchestrated the bombing of the Jedi Temple?" Shaak Ti prompted. "What were your motives?"

Yoda had said that the Jedi Council was not in total agreement, but apparently that had just barely been the case. Ahsoka had hoped that her fellow Togruta had believed in her innocence, but if she had, somehow the woman had been convinced of her guilt during the trial. "I did not do it," Ahsoka said softly, leaning forward as best she could without hurting her wrists. "I never would."

Sighing, Shaak Ti gestured to a clone, who brought her a datapad. "Continuing to lie will not help you, though if you wish to continue this, nobody will object." She turned on the device and tapped a few buttons on the screen. "You'll still be dead."

"Believe me, I know," Ahsoka said, looking away.

Shaak Ti shook her head. "Nobody believes you." Then, as if she knew what Ahsoka was thinking, she added, "Your master has a strong bias, as he is strongly attached to you. It has blinded him to the facts. Now, do you have any questions?"

"Just one," Ahsoka muttered. This was a question she did not like asking, but she wanted to know before she entered the execution room. "How do you plan on killing me?"

Moving her finger across her datapad, Shaak Ti said, "We're going to strap you to a flat medical chair and put you in a nitrogen gas chamber. It's entirely painless. To you it'll feel like you're falling asleep and not dying, which is actually why we're doing it. A youth rights group stepped in and requested that we use this method instead of beheading you, which was the original plan."

"Oh." Ahsoka rubbed her neck. She felt so uncomfortable, and she had every reason. She'd never be able to thank whatever group had intervened, making her execution less painful. It was weird. They'd helped kill her less painfully. That was good, in a way, but it was hard – no, it was impossible – to feel thankful. "That's… nice, I guess."

Shaak Ti gently put a hand on Ahsoka, trying to comfort her in. Ahsoka brushed the hand away. Still, she used the moment to try and relax a little bit more. Taking a deep breath she asked, "What's going to happen after I die?"

"Let's see here…" Shaak Ti looked at her datapad again. "Your body is going to given to a school for research purposes, though it'll be cut up into sections. You'll be unrecognizable, I promise."

Ahsoka wanted to gag. That was _not_ what she wanted. She'd hope that her body would be cremated, as was the tradition for Jedi. Maybe that had been foolish to hope for. She wasn't a Jedi in their eyes, she was a criminal. And they wouldn't honor her after her death with cremation as a result. Still, that wasn't the answer to her question. "That's not what I meant," she said softly. The Jedi Master raised an eyemarking. "I'm… I'm wondering what will happen to _me._ My soul, I mean. After I die. Will I… can I still become one with the Force?"

"Oh, I understand," Shaak Ti said, growing more somber. She leaned back in her chair. "It depends, I guess. I don't know. I doubt the Force would accept a murder of innocents; you're no better than the Sith in that way, and they don't become one with the Force." She sighed. "I suppose not. But I can't give you any promises. Either way, you won't care. You will stop being you once you die. You'll not exist."

A tear rolled down Ahsoka's cheek, and she buried her face in her hands. "I… I didn't do it, master, I promise." Shaak Ti said nothing. "Please, pretend I didn't do it. Will I still become one with the Force when I die?"

Shaak Ti had the decency to look apologetic. "All I know is that it's possible. We… well, the Jedi Order never came to a conclusion on that point."

Ahsoka began to grow fearful about the afterlife, but she tried not to show it. Not that it mattered. She was already petrified about her impending death. When she took her hands away from her face and looked up at Shaak Ti, her feelings must have shown on her face and in her Force presence, for the Jedi Master looked at her sympathetically. "I'm a mess, aren't I?" Ahsoka asked, her voice full of emotion.

Shaak Ti shook her head. "Ahsoka, you're not behaving any differently than I would expect," she said. "I'd hoped… I wish this hadn't happened. I don't think anyone on the council expected this verdict. We- I don't believe this is ethical, but it is the punishment you've been given. You'll have to go through with it." She pursed her lips. "Jedi serve the senate, and this is what they've requested. It'll help if you if you try to relax, Don't ask me how, just… try. Can you do that?" Ahsoka nodded weakly. "Good. It'll serve you well."

Pushing her chair back, Shaak Ti rose from her seat. For a second, Ahsoka had a moment where she felt great envy and deep emotional pain. The Jedi Master was an adult Togruta. Her lekku reached down to her knees, she had reached her full height, and her montrals curled into a crown at the top of her head. Ahsoka would never grow into adult now, and that hurt so much. She remembered the vision she had when she was fifteen on Mortis. Oh, how she wished she had heeded her future self's words. But she hadn't. And now she was here.

"Ahsoka, I have to go now," Shaak Ti said, breaking Ahsoka out of her thoughts. A clone put a datapad on the table. "If you wish to confess anything, all you need to do is sign the document on the datapad. Nothing will change, but it will help us bring closure to this investigation. Choose wisely." She went to the door. "May the Force be with you, Miss Tano," she said. With a nod to the clone medic, she left to room.

Ahsoka looked at the datapad, glancing over the document. She wouldn't sign it. None of the accusations were true. Then she looked at the top of the screen. It read one o'clock. _Only five hours._ That's all the time she had left.

* * *

The clock on the wall had become a timer, counting down from thirty minutes to the time Ahsoka's execution would be performed. Her mouth had gone dry and the taste of her mouth had gone bad; fear was all she felt now. There was no hiding it. When a clone brought in a green mobile stretcher with various straps on it, Ahsoka's teeth began to chatter. _I don't want to die; I don't want to die; I don't want to die; please, I don't want to die..._

Ahsoka's cuffed hands clenched and unclenched anxiously when they beckoned her to get up from the chair, and lie down on the stretcher. She could have resisted; if there was any chance of her survival, she would have fought each and every one of them. But she followed their instructions as she leaned back. "S-s-so wh-what's n-next?" she asked.

"Well, next we're going to do some preparation here so that some of your dignity is preserved, at least in a way," the clone medic said. He had wrapped a strap around her ankles and under the stretcher. With a pull, he tightened it, then made sure it was secure by wiggling it a little. It felt a little too tight to Ahsoka, but she didn't complain. "You're going to be catheterized and given a rectal plug. This will-"

"D-don't tell me," Ahsoka said, closing her eyes and giving a quick shake of her head. "I… I know what happens when someone d-d-dies. I've… seen too much."

"I understand," the medic said simply.

The preparation process seemed to last forever to Ahsoka, but in reality it only took about fifteen minutes. She was so scared. Time flew by. Soon all that was left of the preparation process was binding her hands and her waist to the mobile stretcher, tightening the straps below her chest, and binding her head to the headrest. "Can I be blindfolded?" she asked. She'd been told that it was unnecessary, but she wanted it anyway.

"Yes, you may," a clone answered. The medic had gone to setup the nitrogen gas chamber. Once she was inside, everyone else would leave the room, seal the doors shut, and then pump out all the gasses in the room that weren't nitrogen. Ahsoka would fall asleep in thirty seconds, they promised her, and she wouldn't feel a thing. "Would you like to be blindfolded before or after you say you give your final statement?"

"After, p-please," Ahsoka said. She wasn't afraid to look at them; she wouldn't see them, as the viewing windows only allowed people to look inside. Her eyes would close as she died, because she would fall asleep first, and then her body would start shutting down. She only wanted the blindfold due to an irrational fear of hers. She didn't want her vacant eyes to somehow be exposed to the witnesses, and she had seen many lifeless bodies looking at her during the war. Anakin would be looking on as she died, she knew. She didn't want her face to just be another one of those bodies that they had both seen so many times before.

Another clone tightly pulled the remaining straps, firmly securing her to the stretcher. Ahsoka felt herself urinate from fright. She tried to wiggle, but couldn't. She began to hyperventilate. The medic put a hand on her shoulder, though it didn't help her calm down. Ahsoka couldn't brush the hand away; she couldn't move. She was stuck to this chair for an eternity. _Why did I let them do this to me? What wrong did I do to deserve this? Why, why, why, why why?_ Her questions would go unanswered forever, she realized. Soon, she would stop being a person. She just… wouldn't exist. And it was petrifying. "W-w-what t-time do I h-have left?" she asked.

The medic returned, closing the door behind him, and walked to the foot of the stretcher. He looked her over. "Good work, boys." He turned to the clone on his left. "What did she ask when I came in here?"

"How much time she has left, sir," the clone answered.

"Ah." The medic checked is chrono. "Well, it's about time to bring you in. To be exact, you have four minutes," he said calmly. He waved two clones over. "Sharp! Breaker! Get over here and help me bring her in, alright?"

Ahsoka found herself staring up at the dimly-lit ceiling as the clone moved her into a small whitewashed room. Her lekku lay on a pillow, so it didn't hurt when they hit a bump while going through the door. She was forcing herself to relax her breathing. Realization hit her. _This was it._ For the rest of the galaxy, life would go on, and few would take any notice of her death. Many would be glad to see her go. Slowly, she began to feel a presence attempt to calm her mind through the Force. She looked as best she could at the observation window. It looked like a mirror to her, but she knew that people were looking through on the other side. Someone wouldn't be glad that she would die. Anakin was there for her.

"Any last words?" the medic asked as the rest of the clones filed out of the room, closing the doors behind them.

She nodded, and the clone medic propped her head up so she look more directly at the window. Ahsoka cleared her throat, strengthening herself as best she could from the calming waves she felt Anakin sending to her.

"I didn't do it," Ahsoka began. "I didn't bomb the Jedi Temple. I never would. I didn't kill anyone during my escape from prison. Someone set me up." Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. "But I did do things I'm not proud of; things Jedi should never do. I fought. I destroyed. I killed. I thrived on the battlefield. I'm ashamed to admit this, but there were times I even _enjoyed_ it." She sniffled and let out a sob, then choked it down so she could finish. "I-if any J-Jedi are watching me, p-please, don't do t-this again. D-don't send anyone like me to fight. It's… too awful. A-a-and it isn't a w-w-way to live." Shuddering, she looked at the medic. "T-that's it, I g-guess."

The medic slipped a blindfold over her eyes, blurring her vision, but it was thin enough and not tight enough to block all the light from entering. Ahsoka could still make out her surroundings. When she heard the door close behind the clone and a slight hissing noise, fear washed over her and she stiffened. She began holding her breath, buying as many seconds as she could.

Ahsoka took this brief moment to look back on her life, remembering the bright spots as best as she could. Anakin's laugh, Obi-Wan's amusing jokes, the giggles of the younglings as they played, and the many beautiful sunsets and creatures she had seen on her adventures.

Letting the air out of her aching lungs, she took a breath.

Relaxed.

Let the last of her tears fall.

Closed her eyes.

And smiled.

* * *

**AhsokaNerd's Corner**

Thanks for reading. Please take the time of leave a review and provide feedback on the story. Finally, may the Force be with you.

- AhsokaNerd


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